The Auction
by Gilly Bean2
Summary: Hermione Granger disappeared before the end of the war. Charlie Weasley spends his time saving the victims of the war, and finds her. Post Hogwarts, Post War, Voldemort Wins. Part 4 up. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**_Fic: The Auction, Charlie/Hermione, Rated R, 1/4_**  
Title: The Auction  
Author: Gilly  
Pairing/s: Charlie/Hermione  
Rating: R  
Warnings: Slavery, more to follow  
AN: This was done in response to **inell**'s auction challenge at **booksfreckles**.

Looking at the crudely built stage in the front of the park, Charlie couldn't quite make out all of the girls standing there. Some had their hair roughly shaved off, leaving patches of raw skin behind. Other's had short hair, cut haphazardly across the bottom to leave ragged uneven ends. One though, one lone girl, still had a glorious mane of hair. Long, thick, dark brown hair. It came nearly to her waist, and looked as though it might have a bit of curl to it, though it was matted and dirty.

From the distance, however, he couldn't make out any of her features. Rather than waiting, he made his way through the thick crowd to get close enough to see the girls faces clearly. The fact that they were nude did little for him. If anything, it almost made him feel sorry for them. They weren't accepted by the ruling wizard, most because they were muggle born, or mudbloods, but some because of their roles in attempting to defeat Lord Voldemort or their parents parts in the same goal.

As he drew closer, Charlie noticed that at least one of the girls was a pure blood, a girl his youngest brother had gone to school with, Pansy something. She had no hair, and at the closer inspection, he could see her body had taken some brutal hexes recently. Being enslaved wasn't an easy process for most girls, and as new as it was, most of the girls were going to retaliate. Charlie gave the girl one last look before his eyes turned towards the girl who managed to keep her hair intact.

She looked vaguely familiar, but Charlie couldn't immediately place her. He watched her for a few minutes, studied her mannerisms, and how she reacted when the guards prodded her and those around her. She couldn't be more than 19 or 20, he figured, but there was an air of maturity around her that was hard to ignore. While her fellow slaves were shivering and trying to hide their bodies, she stood calmly, not showing her fear, or trying to hide herself.

Finally, Charlie stepped away and made his way to one of the traders to get a scroll detailing information on each of the slaves available, and what their use was. The slaving had started almost two years ago, so Charlie was used to these by now. He was pure blooded, but he was far from the type of pure blood that the ruling wizard looked for. He learned early on to keep his nose clean, but he did all he could to help the souls most in need. Along with his two remaining brothers, Bill and George, Charlie worked underground towards freeing the slaves, and building a large resistance capable of over throwing Lord Voldemort and his guards.

This was the seventh such auction Charlie had come to. His goal was the same each time. Acquire a slave or two, show his loathing for all things with 'dirty blood', and lead the slaves away. Each was kept in a series of safe houses until they could be lead to freedom, usually in America. Between himself and his brothers, the Weasley's had bought a total of 12 slaves, and all but one was safely in America. The last one was caught in transit, and killed before they could save her.

While a majority of the slaves were women, there were also men occasionally available. Today's auction didn't include any, however. Charlie got a hold of a scroll, and looked it over quickly, glancing at the pictures beside each of the numbers. No names were given. That was the first act upon enslaving someone, their names were removed, and they were given a number. If the new owner wished to name the slave, then that was his or her prerogative, but all came to the auctions 'blank' of names.

He skimmed the page quickly. Each number included a picture, age, tasks or skills they were proficient in, height, weight, eye color, hair color, and any discipline problems they might have. Most of the girls had previous owners who tired of them, or died, and they were resold to the slavers for future auctions. Charlie noticed right off that all but two of the slaves being sold were listed as breeding slaves. Lord Voldemort believed that breeding lead to future slaves, born to be slaves, and raised to be obedient.

The two which were not listed were vastly different from one another. The first was an older witch, well past the age of being able to bare children. The other was a virgin. It was the girl he had looked at first, the one with the hair. She was a new slave, caught in the muggle world after having disappeared years back. From what he gathered by listening to those around him, she was supposed to fetch a few hundred galleons. She was listed simply as Girl 58342.

He had a gut feeling that she would end up dead at the hands of one of the more zealous of Lord Voldemort's followers. Charlie had a decision to make. His brothers were around somewhere, he just had to find them, and decide if they could afford to free her, or if they should try for two of the less expensive slaves. Turning away from the stage, Charlie scanned the crowd for the bright red hair which set him and his brothers apart from most of the crowd. It took several minutes before he spotted one, Bill he thought, but couldn't tell from the distance.

Charlie turned towards him, and pushed people out of the way as he made his way towards Bill. As he was walking, he spied George, and called him over to follow. By the time they reached Bill, the bidding had started on the first slave, the older woman who wouldn't go for much. Charlie took only a moment to open the scroll and point out the girl he was there about. Whispering carefully, he told his brothers what he wanted to do.

Between the three of them, they decided to try for the girl. They had enough galleons to hopefully do it, but if one of the so-called 'inner circle' were there, it might prove more difficult. The inner circle referred to Lord Voldemort's closest confidantes, an elite group of supremacist pure blooded witches and wizards. The group had nearly unlimited funds available, and usually got what they wanted. The three agreed to a set amount before hand, then split back up. Charlie made his way back up front. As he got closer, he put his attention back on the girl, number 58342. She had a passably pretty face, and he could see that her body lacked the hexing scars the others had. The only marring on her body were deep black bruises around her neck, her wrists, and her ankles, which he figured were caused from shackles and a collar.

Not all girls needed so much restriction, but then, most of these girls were first enslaved nearly three years ago, a good amount of time before these debacles called auctions were started. The girl in question was slim, bordering on being undernourished, and he took a moment to check her weight and height. She was listed at being 5'6" tall, and weighing just barely 100 pounds even. He frowned at that, and looked back up. By now, he was nearly to the front of the group, with only a handful of people being closer to the stage than he was. Looking straight at her, Charlie silently pleaded for her to turn to face him. She didn't, though. She kept her gaze straight ahead, looking at a vague point well beyond any of the people. For a brief moment, Charlie wished she would look at him, that she would see the compassion in his eyes, the need to shelter her from this, his desire to set her free. But still she stared ahead.

Before too long, she was brought up to the front of the stage, and her credentials were listed. Oddly enough, they even gave her name. Hermione Granger. Upon hearing the name, Charlie recalled the scrawny 14 year old he'd met years before at a Quidditch match. His youngest brother Ron had mentioned briefly that she disappeared in the summer between their 5th and 6th year of school. No one had heard from her since. Oh, she was a grand prize, that was apparent in the frenzied bidding. Charlie held his hand up, and upped the bid to nearly 200 galleons. Before long, the bidding started to stall out at 382 galleons.

The girl trembled slightly, but gave no other indication that she was frightened or nervous. Charlie put his arm up again, and verbally set the bid from 382 to 500 galleons to get rid of most of the competition. It worked well, but still left one other bidder. A royal pain in his arse, really, by the name of Theodore Nott. He himself wasn't in the inner circle, but his father had been before dying in the Great War. The bid quickly escalated, but it topped out just shy of his limit, and Charlie won the girl for the not-so-bargain price of 764 galleons. The auctioneer announced his name as the winner, and the girls eyes opened wider as she finally turned her gaze towards him.

Charlie stopped himself from reassuring her with a smile, and turned his gaze towards the auctioneer, and away from her large eyes. He made his way through the crowd, and found both of his brothers waiting at the payment center. They pooled the coins, and dropped them on the desk before signing the ownership papers. As his signature was burned into the parchment, he felt the fission of magic soar through his body. The magic was done to bind her to him. The only way she could leave him now is if he died, sold her, gave her away, or freed her.

Without waiting for her, he gave instructions to have the girl escorted to his flat, where he would be waiting for her appearance. Almost as an after thought, he turned and requested that she be clothed, so as not to show off to others what was now his. With a smirk firmly on his face, Charlie passed by Theodore Nott, and the three brothers left the park before Apperating back to the flat they kept for appearance sake.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Fic: The Auction, Charlie/Hermione, Rated R, 2/4_**  
Title: The Auction  
Author: Gilly  
Pairing/s: Charlie/Hermione  
Rating: R  
Warnings: Slavery, more to follow  
AN: This was done in response to **inell**'s auction challenge at **booksfreckles**. Also, I should say now that this story is already completed, I just haven't posted it all yet. There are 2 more parts after this one!

Chapter 2

Hermione Granger tried hard not to see or hear what was going on around her. It was atrocious, and though she was shaking inside at the thought of so many people seeing her in only what God gave her, she refused to show it on the outside. Her arms and legs ached from pulling at her chains all night, and her throat was on fire from the tight ring that had attached her to a leash like chain. She had screamed herself raw within just a few moments of being caught and chained.

The other girls had laughed at her, they knew what was to happen, they had been in her place before, back in the beginning. Each had their own terrifying story of being caught, and their first exam and subsequent auction. The only girl who hadn't been to an auction was a petite dark skinned girl who was probably only two or three years older than Hermione herself. Just like the other girls, she refused to say her name, as the guards would hex any who said their names. Names were something of the past, something they no longer could call their own.

Before the long hours were over with, Hermione had been examined so thoroughly that she had wondered if they could tell what she was thinking just by where they poked her. The ordeal was hard, but she knew it wasn't over with. It was only when she had been brought up to the stage, her wrists shackled to the girl in front of her, that the severity of the situation hit her. She was to be sold, and who ever bought her would do so because of who she had been so many years before.

Hermione had left the wizarding world behind nearly five years before, during the summer in between fifth and sixth year. The attacks on muggles and muggle born witches and wizards had increased with such fury, that the muggles had taken the stance of a serial killer on the loose. Muggles stayed locked in their homes at night, and refused to talk to strangers. Each night, someone new died. Towards the end of the summer, it was no longer one a night, but rather three or four families a night. The police had no leads, and couldn't even come up with a concrete answer as to just how they died.

With her parents in danger, Hermione left the wizarding world, and got them to America, hopefully to safety. They hadn't understood then just what sort of danger they were all in, not until the night before they left when they very narrowly escaped their own deaths. For two years, Hermione lay safe in America, and with help from Professor Dumbledore, the house was put under the strongest wards and unplottables imaginable. Professor Dumbledore appointed Remus Lupin as her secret keeper, and between them both, they spread around the news that Hermione Granger had left the wizarding world without telling anyone of her intentions or where abouts.

Her family lived in anonymity while Hermione learned to fight from as many books as she could get her hands on. She planned to leave her family safe at home when the war was winding up to end, but the end that came three years ago wasn't one that anyone had counted on. Lord Voldemort had triumphed over the European wizarding world, and the loss of lives was great. With the ability to rule over the witches and wizards, Lord Voldemort left the muggles alone for the most part.

Hermione knew that both Professor Dumbledore and Remus Lupin had lost their lives, and she knew that because the wards died with them. From there on, she and her family waited for their lives to be forfeited to the dark side. Their deaths didn't come, though, and after another two years, they began to think it wouldn't happen. But it had. Bellatrix LeStrange and Severus Snape came for them one night. It had been deceptively peaceful that day, the sun shining brightly, the flowers blooming, and the weather warm and pleasant.

They came just after dinner, Apperating into the middle of the living room, and before Hermione had a chance to draw her wand, both of her parents were dead. She ran, like a coward, she ran. Before they could get more than a single hex fired off towards her, Hermione had disappeared into thin air. From that moment on, Hermione lead a great chase across the United States, then on into Canada, before she started to make arrangements to cross into England. She knew it would be risky, there would be many people who could recognize her. The only thing she could hope for, is that they wouldn't expect her to show up in the midst of their domain.

It took another four months before she was caught, and it was from someone she thought she could trust to keep her safe, Oliver Wood. He apologized even as the guard came to take her to the slave auctions. Hermione didn't blame him, though, not really. She was wanted, while he managed to stay living a relatively quiet life simply by doing what was expected of all the citizens. She had seen and heard enough in her four months to know what happened to those who didn't obey the new laws.

So, here she was, standing in a chained line of girls waiting to be sold, and to know what their value would be this time around. Hermione didn't cower as some did, though. Oh, she made certain to show that they couldn't shame her, or scare her. No matter how scared she was inside, she refused to show them. If she showed them her fear, they would exploit it, and they would break her. But she was a Gryffindor, she knew deep down that she had he courage to look unaffected by the ordeal.

During her brief stay in captivity with the other girls, Hermione was scorned simply for her apparent value in being a virgin, as well as being able to keep her hair where the others had not. A lack of hair was a sign of submissiveness, or to show that a person was a slave. Some girls had short hair, though it was brittle, and cut awkwardly at the ends, but most of the girls had all of their hair removed. It appeared to be some sort of punishment, as well.

Hermione was jarred from her thoughts as Pansy Parkinson was unchained from Hermione, and dragged up front. Hermione felt a small amount of pity for the girl who had done nothing except antagonize Hermione both in school, and in the past few days. Pansy had apparently been enslaved almost 2 years back, and was looked at as some sort of leader among the slaves. She ruled over them in the small cell like chamber and didn't take kindly to being shown that Hermione would be worth at least double what she was, and she wasn't cheap herself.

All too soon, it was Hermione's turn, and she shrugged off the arms of the guard and walked herself up to the front with her chin thrust forward, and a steel resolve. She refused to look down at the people bidding on her, so instead, she focused her gaze on a tree in the back of the park, one with small white flowers growing on it. Hermione almost laughed at the irony of those flowers blooming in the face of such hatred. She tried to block out what they were saying about her, she really did, but the numbers were too loud, the cheering too wide spread, and the sounds quickly broke through her.

Even through that, she remained stiff, and refused to look at any of those bidding on her. She held her fear firmly in place, and waited for it to be over with, so she could await her fate. It was only when she heard his name that Hermione finally looked down, her eyes wide with the surprise she was unable to hide. He barely even looked at her, and for a moment, she had felt hope, before an ice cold numbness washed over her body at the thought of being owned by one of them.

Being quickly dragged from the stage, Hermione was shocked once more by the tattered robe thrown around her, followed by a long covering cloak. Hermione allowed her thoughts to drift towards Ron for the first time since being caught. She had learned shortly after arriving into the country that he, along with his only sister, and several brothers, had lost his life in the final battle. No one seemed to know what had happened to Harry, but the popular theory among the people was that he was alive and gathering an army. The guards and the more loyal citizens, however, insisted that Harry died in the confrontation, and that there was no hope for the people of Europe.

With precious few moments to regain her composure, Hermione was dragged along to a designated position, and a port key was thrust into her hands. With a jerk, she fell to the ground with closed eyes, and when she opened them, she was staring into the eyes of three different Weasley brothers. Blinking several times to clear her head, Hermione cringed back from them, as she had no idea just what to expect from them.

The brothers each exchanged a look before Bill and George stood and left the room. Charlie watched them for a moment, then looked at Hermione. He had yet to say anything to her, and it was unnerving at the very least. His mouth was drawn in a tight line, and his eyes were the only indication that he might not hate her as she was fearing. His voice, once he spoke, was quiet but firm.

"Stand up. I need to make sure of your health. Once we're done, Bill and George will bring you something to eat. You are hungry, aren't you?" He watched her closely as he spoke. Hermione listened and stood as she was asked. She couldn't quiet contain her jitteriness, however, and she was shaking as he raised a wand to point towards her.

Her eyes closed tightly as she waited for the invasive examination like the one she had withstood at the auction house, but it never came. Instead, she felt a hand on her chin, and it was gentle. A moment later, she felt the warm sensation of a healing spell as it soothed over her neck, and down her arms and legs. She opened her eyes to look at him again, and saw that his face had softened. He wasn't smiling, but his face didn't look so unapproachable anymore, either.

"Are you hungry? It's been our experience that the girls are fed barely enough to make up a meal, let alone a whole days worth of food." Charlie waited for her answer as he studied her face, and after a tense moment, she finally nodded slightly. He nodded once, and finally gave her an encouraging smile. "Hermione, you have no need to be scared of me. I promise you, we won't hurt you."

Maybe it was the promise, or perhaps the use of her name, or even the smile he gave her, but Hermione finally felt safe for the first time since that day almost a year ago when her parents had been killed. She no longer worried that she might die at the hands of her best friends brother. The effect on her was instantaneous, and she found herself wrapped in his arms as her sobs broke free of the tight reign she had kept on them for so long.

His quiet murmuring in her ear, and the hand that soothed over her hair helped to calm her some, but the high emotions she had felt over the past few days still held her tight in their grasp still. Finally, she calmed down, and rested securely in his embrace. She heard as his brothers entered the room, but no one said anything, and she was loath to remove herself from Charlie's warm arms.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: I'm glad that the story is being well received. I only have one more chapter to post after this one, and it should be up within 5 or 6 days. Enjoy!

Ch 3

"Where is Harry?"

The sound broke the stillness of the room, and Charlie glanced up from the newspaper in surprise. Hermione was standing in the open doorway to the bedroom draped in an overly big bath robe, and her long hair was wet and clean. Her skin was still too pale, and she still had dark bags under her eyes, but the past week had done much to give the girl a healthier appearance.

It wasn't so much the words that jarred Charlie, however, as much as it was the first time he'd heard Hermione speak since he and his brothers had rescued her from the auction six days back. It had taken a lot to make her feel secure, and even then, loud noises startled her. The first day had been spent making her comfortable, and getting her to rest and eat. The second day had consisted of trying to explain to her just why they purchased her, and what they hoped to accomplish by doing so.

It took all of the third and fourth day for her to be comfortable enough in her surroundings to allow the three Weasley's to leave her alone for short times. Before that, she had clung to them, never wanting to be alone. The fifth day was spent trying to acquire her a black market wand through some connections they had through other "helpers". And on the sixth, on that very day, she grew comfortable enough to speak to them.

Hermione had never been especially close to any of the three remaining Weasley's, though she had at least known George while in school. Between the two, Charlie and Bill had seen her maybe three times ever before the auction. They each expected her to cling to George, to open up to him, as she knew him. But that wasn't the case. Instead, she clung to Charlie, holding him tightly in the night when a nightmare came to torment her. It was Charlie who wiped her tears away and brushed his hand over her hair, and her back. Charlie was her light, her savior.

"Where is he?" Charlie was startled out of his thoughts as he focused on her, and the pleading quality of her voice. Charlie sighed and tried to think of the best way to approach this problem.

"I don't know, Hermione. It's been quite a while since I've seen him." The answer was truthful, though Charlie was referring more to where he could be at that possible moment, rather than in general. When the brothers had rented the flat, they put strong wards on it to avoid being snooped in on, but they still remained cautious to the possibility that it could be heard.

"He didn't die, then?" Hermione's voice was soft, barely audible, as she asked the question of him. He concentrated on her face for a moment, and noticed she was biting down on her lower lip. He trailed his gaze down a bit, and noticed that her hands were clenched in the material of the large robe.

"He was wounded, but no, Hermione, he didn't die."

"Who did?"

"Who died? Well, Professor's McGonagall and Dumbledore, as well as Mr. Filch. Remus Lupin made it through the war, only to be killed by an assassin afterwards. My.. my parents, of course, as well as Percy, Fred, Ron and Ginny. Most of the members of the Order were eradicated, either during the war, or shortly after. We managed to escape detection by swearing allegiance."

Charlie watched her carefully while he spoke, though her curiously blank expression unnerved him slightly. She didn't appear surprised by any of the names, or even of his confession of pledging allegiance to Voldemort. It was this Hermione that he just didn't know how to handle. An upset girl, or angry one, those were easy to deal with. But this broken girl in front of him, she wasn't nearly as easy to take. In short, he was worried about her. Without another word, she nodded once, then disappeared back into the bedroom.

That night, the nightmares didn't come, and when Charlie woke the next morning, he couldn't be certain if he felt good about that, or if he was disappointed by it. She was still curled up in her own small bed when he went in to check on her. For several moments, he stood in the doorway looking down at her sleeping face. As expressionless as she was during the day, as cold as her emotions ran, she was much more relaxed in sleep, and after her nightmares.

Usually she would be frowning or cringing from him when he came in to wake her from a nightmare. This morning, however, she had a slight smile on her lips. He wasn't even certain it would qualify as a smile, but it was the loveliest sight he had seen in days. Even as he hoped that she would be able to sleep longer, she began to stir, and after a moment or two, she opened her eyes. Almost as soon as she did, the not-quite-a-smile disappeared from her face. Before she had a chance to see him, Charlie melted back into the shadows of the hallway, and made his way into the kitchen.

She hadn't spoken at all during that day, and Charlie began to wonder if he had imagined her voice the first time. It was the third day past the day when she spoke, and there hadn't been a word spoken since. When he talked, she would sit and listen, but she didn't respond at all, no voice, no nodding, no shaking her head. She just looked at him, those large brown eyes as empty as ever.

It was George who suggested that he begin the process to get her out of the country, and into the safe houses in America. Maybe if she saw Harry, it would help. Charlie was stalling, however. He didn't want to give her up yet, because then he'd have to be alone again, and as quiet as she was, it was preferable to the desolate silence he had when he was alone.

But George and Bill kept on him about it, and that was why he was sitting up at the kitchen table late that night, long after the other occupants of the flat had gone to bed. In front of him, he had several parchments designed to show themselves only to one of the Weasley's, or one of the select few others who helped save the victims of Voldemort. On it was a list of apperation locations that would be used in smuggling her out of the country. If all went well, she'd be safe in Harry's arms in three days time.

It was too soon, and at the same time, not soon enough. Charlie folded the paper up, and stood. He stretched out his tired cramped muscles and rubbed his tired eyes before walking down the hallway. At her room, he paused for a moment, then opened the door just slightly. She was sleeping soundly all curled up around a pillow with her cheek resting against it, and her long curly hair laying around her.

When he felt his body tensing, and felt the ache of wanting in the pit of his stomach, Charlie closed the door and shook his head before walking to the room he shared with his brothers. Not soon enough, indeed.

In the end, it was Bill who decided the when's, where's, and how's of the smuggling. One person from the group of 9 was always appointed to accompany the person over sea's to the America's. Because of the multitude of apperation points, the group spread out all over the continent. The first person would apperate with Hermione to the second person. The trade off was done lightning quick, and before Hermione would have time to blink, she would be in another set of arms, Apperating to another person. This went on until reaching the 9th person, who would then port key them to a small town in Georgia.

Harry would be waiting at that point, and there'd be a swap- Hermione for another port key, which dropped the last person back where he or she started. The entire process took only eight minutes. Now all Charlie had to do, is suggest allowing him to be the last person. All of the people knew that it was almost time to do the actual smuggling. Harry was aware someone would be arriving, he just needed to be alerted as to when.

Hermione had been her usual quiet self when told of the plans. The only difference any of them could see was her eyes. She raised her face up to look over at Charlie, and her eyes widened slightly as she watched him. He couldn't read the look, but he wanted nothing more than for it to mean she was regaining her hope. If she had that, he would be happy.


	4. Chapter 4

_AN: I apologize in advance, before you read. 0:-)_

Chapter 4

In her eyes, she was a failure. She had failed to keep her parents alive. She had failed to stick by Harry and Ron's sides to defeat Voldemort. She failed to finish school. She had failed to keep herself safe. Mostly, though, what Hermione thought of over the past few days, is how she failed to remain unattached to the Weasley boys.

No, that wasn't true, it wasn't the Weasley boys in general. It was just one, just Charlie. Charlie and his easy smile. Charlie and his tousled hair. Charlie and his strong arms. Charlie. Just Charlie. It was Charlie whose image stayed in her head long after sleep claimed her at night, Charlie who held her safe from her nightmares, Charlie who saved her. Just Charlie.

Hermione had been told only hours before that she would be leaving them soon. She had thought at the time that she had taken the news rather well, but in retrospect, she could easily recognize the panicked feeling that had eaten away at the pit of her stomach. After a moment, her eyes had searched for Charlie's, and when she found them, the only thought in her mind was that there would be no more Charlie.

Now here she was, sitting in her room alone, trying to be happy for being able to escape, for being able to see Harry, for being able to help once more. But it was only one more thing she failed at, because the only thought was that there would be no more Charlie. She now had only a few hours before Charlie or Bill would come in to collect her for the escape.

The entire ordeal had been explained in full detail, and she knew just what to expect. Even while her head knew they were helping her, the entire process sounded a bit like she was being tossed around a Quidditch pitch like a bludger. One person tossing her to the next. The one thing she could look forward to is being in Charlie's arms once more.

Reluctantly, Hermione dredged her thoughts away from the self-pitying path, and opened the knap sack George had given her. She had been given a few sets of second hand robes, and some muggle clothes to wear over the past few weeks, and it all needed packing. She sank down on the bed and started folding the items carefully before placing them in the bag.

Hours after it was all done, she would still replay everything in her mind. Bill talking softly to her, explaining who she would start with, and what order everyone would go in. He asked her if she had any questions, and though she desperately wanted to ask if she would see Charlie again, she held her tongue and shook her head.

George giving her an awkward hug, and whispering that it would all be over with soon, as if that was the thought which would soothe her. She had returned the hug just as awkwardly, and simply nodded her head. Finally, though, her gaze turned towards Charlie. Sweet Charlie. Just Charlie. His smile looked forced to her, though it may have been wishful thinking on her part.

He had come over to her and enveloped her into his arms, holding her tight and pressing his cheek into her soft curls. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and held onto him just as tightly. It was him who broke through her shell, who tore down the hastily erected walls around her heart. She hadn't even noticed that she had started crying, or that Bill was urging George from the room, and shutting the door behind them.

It was only when a ragged sob left her throat that Hermione noticed the tears soaking his shirt beneath her face. His arms began to gently rock her back and forth, whispering soothing words and nonsense to her. She pushed back from him, and felt his hands sliding up her arms to cup her face. One thumb brushed gently across her face to brush away a tear.

"Come with me?" Hermione's voice startled both of them, as it escaped without warning. It was raspy from disuse, and thick with emotion as she pleaded with him. "Stay with me, come to Georgia. Just stay with me, Charlie."

Hermione could see the shudder going through him as he leaned his forehead in until it was resting against hers, and his eyes were staring into hers. His thumbs wiped more tears away before he pulled back just enough to kiss her forehead, and then her nose. She tilted her head back more, and the next time, his lips met hers. After the gentle press of his lips, he pulled away again, and graced her with a smile full of love, and of hope.

"If it were that easy, I'd be yours, Hermione. I want to, Merlin only knows how much I want to. There is so much I would do for you, but right now, while there are others to be saved, I have to do this. I made a promise, one I have to keep. You have no idea how much I want to break it for you, Hermione. I want nothing more than to hear your voice everyday."

Charlie ended his speech by placing another kiss on her lips, this one longer, with his lips and tongue caressing hers, and his hands holding tightly to her upper arms as he held her soft body to his. She heard a whimper, a soft mewling sound like a kitten might make, and was surprised to realize it had come from her own body, her body which was now arched towards Charlie.

In the end, though, he let her go when it was time to start her escape. She could feel his eyes on her as she stepped into Bill's arms for the first step. Hermione bit down on her trembling lower lip and squeezed her wet eyes shut before taking in a deep breath. When Bill asked if she was ready, it was all she could do to stop herself from crying out that she just wanted to stay.

But she didn't. In a rapid succession of Apparations, and an already upset stomach, Hermione was launched across Great Britain and Europe, before she found herself suddenly steadied in Charlie's arms once again. He looked down at her with troubled eyes, and as he activated the port key, his lips touched hers once more. This time, the gut wrenching feeling might have been from the port key, or it might have been from Charlie. She never could be certain.

As soon as his lips left hers, he leaned in to whisper to her softly that he would be back, that she could count on that. Then she was pushed backwards into another set of waiting arms, and even before she could lift her arm to reach out towards Charlie, he was gone. Hermione was shaking badly as the arms turned her around. She looked up into Harry Potter's surprised emerald eyes, and began crying again, just like the day she was first found.

Charlie never did return. The light side won the second coming of the second war, but it wasn't without it's own losses.

The End 

AN: Thank you SO much for reading this story. I'm really pleased with how it turned out. I could have ended it with Charlie coming back, and as much as I would have preferred that myself, this ending just felt right as it came out. No punishment, please! Many hugs and smoochies to my reviewers!


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